


The Residents of 12B

by leedonghaes



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Barduil - Freeform, M/M, Parent Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5415623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leedonghaes/pseuds/leedonghaes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard hasn't been able to sleep for months, and when he marches upstairs to find the devil of a child making noise at night, he also finds Thranduil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Residents of 12B

Night had fallen, time for crawling under the sheets. The street lamps were lit, the trains moved slower, and occasionally a light went out from a row of flats. It was a breezy evening and the setting seemed just right for drifting off. Bard would have been among the ordinary citizens, sleeping their nights away, if not for —

Thud. Thud. Rrrrnnng.

That.

Bard pulled a pillow over his head, clenching the bed sheets in frustration. Legend goes that the residents of flat 11B never get their much needed sleep; 12B is always too noisy. Well legends go a lot of ways, but Bard only needed the 12B legends to go one way: away. It had been a long day at work— the ship he had inspected that day was too noisy and bleak— and it had probably been a long day at school too, for his kids. What had the residents of 12B had? A long nap, maybe. A long rest to supplement all that energy that troubled Bard so. Bard just had the moment to think this, when the onslaught of noises came again.

Brrrnggggg. Thud. BrrrrThud.

Ugh.

Bard gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. The racket from above seemed to personally attack him. Every sound seemed to jab at the very core of his being. He tried to distract himself. He thought about the ship he had gone down to inspect that day. It had been extremely chaotic and the sewage was absolutely vile. Maybe he had just been too harsh that day; his colleagues had not seemed particularly bothered by the state of the ship. Maybe he just needed some sleep. Sleep he wasn’t going to get because of —

Thud.

What in the name of blazes was going on up there? Was this kid nocturnal? Was this kid intentionally and specifically attacking him? Wasn’t this kid way past their bedtime? Was the kid even a kid? What if—

A few minutes later, Bard was stomping up the stairs to the floor above. He hadn’t even bothered to dress. His bathrobe willowed around him as he took each step, footsteps pounding on the floor. As he reached the second floor, he marched rancorously towards the flat. Here they were… His torturers. He huffed his way up towards the brown door. On it was was engraved, “12B”. He could still hear the racket from outside the door. Who even were these people? He wouldn’t have been surprised if they were bats. He was upset, and really, really angry. But Bard was good man, who always acted with calculation and consideration. So he gently raised his hands to the door and knocked on it, like a pleasant gentleman would. Or you could say he pounded.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bard put his arms on his hips, tapping his feet impatiently. Never mind that no one was there to see him show just how annoyed he was. Bard hadn’t had enough sleep since he moved here. His hair was messy, and the bags under his eyes spelled murder. Bard heard the sound of the door opening. At last, the residents of 12B opened up. Bard did not even spare a second to look at the person who opened the door, when his anger started pouring out of him in the form of angry words.

“You! You’re the person who lives up here! If I may ask, why do you make such a racket at this time of night? Wait, I don’t even need permission to ask this. You stole nearly 687 hours of sleep from me. You owe me everything. I don’t owe you shit. Are you guys bats or something? Nocturnal, are you? That’s what I thought.”

So Bard went on like that for a little while, occasionally stomping his foot. Bard was not usually like that. His friends and colleagues all knew him as a calm, pleasant gentleman. But you see, his friends and colleagues also knew one other thing about him: Never disrupt his sleep. Forgiving and kind though he was, Bard was uncompromising when it came to his rest. He would hate you with an angry vengeance if you ever so much as stepped into where he was sleeping. Therefore, Bard stayed there for a few seconds just arguing with someone who hadn’t even said a word. It must have been because he didn’t see who exactly he was talking to; he was too distracted.

If he had bothered to take a glance, he would have been the chubby-cheeked, blue-eyed little boy peeking out at him from behind the door. His name was Legolas, and yes, you called it: He is the little devil responsible for this tale. Legolas was finding Bard quite amusing. Just standing there, a fully-grown man, yelling at the heavens and swinging his arms around. Usually at this hour Legolas would be playing with his favourite toy bow and arrows, but this man was much more entertaining. His father had to see this! He left the door ajar and ran off to let his father know about the sensation that was Bard.

Bard didn’t notice the little boys sudden disappearance. Hell, he hadn’t noticed him there in the first place. He was positively yelling now, worked into a rage by himself. He didn’t see Legolas return with another man by his side.

“You’re annoying and I can’t sleep and everything’s a mess. You ruined my life and you will PAY!” Bard had not gotten tired yet, not he.

Legolas could have stood there for ages just watching Bard without making a single sound, but his father had less self-restraint. This grumpy man doing flips on his front doorstep was just too much for him to handle so late in the night. He stood for just a few seconds watching the circus before a laugh escaped him. Before he could bite his lips to hold back more, Bard had heard and was even angrier than before.

“You have the nerve to be laughing at me? You stole— no, robbed— sleep from me, ever since you moved here, and I’m angry. All you can do is laugh? FUCK—”

Bard finally looked at the tall stranger standing right in front of him. Light blue eyes stared back at him, and a hint of a smile played at the strangers lips. He was extremely handsome, and the curve of his lips only told Bard that he knew it too. Bard’s throat went dry. He blinked, and took one step back. The stranger simply raised his eyebrows, as if asking him to go on.

“Fuck— Fuck…Me?”

Bard had fucked up. Very Sincerely Fucked Up. He was supposed to be confronting and making complaints, not making lascivious comments to a — Bard looked at the child— married man? Before Bard could rethink his actions (had he even thought once about it?), he stepped back and shut the door. Once he was safe behind the door, he heaved a sigh of relief.

What the hell was he thinking? He had completely embarrassed himself, yelling at complete strangers. He would never be able to show his face again. He must have looked like a monkey hopping around and howling. What ever was he to do? Would he have to take his kids and leave in the middle of the night? Move away to a new town? A new country, even? What kind of people were the residents of 12B, just letting him stand there and make a fool of himself? He would never get over this. His life was over. 

Just when Bard was about to drown in self sorrow — take note that he hasn’t yet moved away from the door— the door clicked open again. Bard hopped up, flustered, and was getting ready to make a break for it then—

“Sure.”

— That night Bard went back down the stairs with a phone numbered scribbled onto his palm, ear plugs, and a newfound crush on his upstairs neighbour, Thranduil.

So he wasn’t fucked up after all, just fucked.

Literally.

**Author's Note:**

> EH... Inspired by a true story. Which fortunately did not end with my father meeting a handsome neighbour.


End file.
